Being the 'Hero'
by Djsoresupon3
Summary: An attempt to modernize Fable 2. Jordan is not a hero. He is an international criminal... and he's 14. But he is forced to accept his role as the Hero of Time when he is manipulated into helping a man take control of the world. His adventures will take him across the world and back as he gains strange allies to help him right his biggest wrong. Rated M for violence and gore.
1. Ghostwriter

Prologue: Ghostwriter by RJD2

**Hello everyone! For those of you reading this I hope it satisfies you. I will confess that I don't read much Fable fanfic… or any at all. But this idea came to me and I had to post it to see what others think. Now first thing first… this is a modernized fable 2 fic in and altered world of ours. Fable 3 never happened and Fable 1 was actually just a fable. See what I did there? Okay, more back-story. The way of Heroes has died down to the point where a person can only know one trait specifically, like shock, physique, dexterous styles, etc. But there is only one hero for each one. This story follows the adventures and trials of the Hero of Time… enjoy.**

_For those of you reading this for whatever reason, stop. I beg you to stop reading… why? Well, because the worlds you and I live in are completely different… yet so similar. How? Well calm you tits, I was just getting to that… jeez. We may live on the same planet, Earth (or at least I hope you do), with the same things, but the life I've lived and the life you've lived are so different… it's alien. But I don't know which the alien is. Knowing the truth… or living a peaceful life, blind to the world around you. I've lost track of which is really better. Well enough about my depressed rant, I'll tell you, those that seek the truth. THIS IS MY LAST WARNING TO TURN BACK NOW! Please… look outside. Do you want to know what's out there? Hiding in the shadows. Do you know what's keeping you safe? If not, THEN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TURN BACK! Well that's it, you've been warned. Now, I'll explain to you my life. Personally, I think my life has been one giant line of dominoes… one event leading to the next. Sadly, I fear that the line is still falling. My life before the first domino was pretty awesome… and lonely. I was 14 then. My parents died in a car crash when I was 6 and I had lived on the streets. People offered to help me, but I denied it all. I dropped out of school when I was 13, the year before. Why? Because everyone was so god damned stupid. So I took college courses online. You're probably wondering how a 'homeless' kid could afford to go to college. Well I wasn't homeless. My first home is a small apartment in Seattle. It's 1,000 cubic feet and has a great view of the Sound. When I say my first home, I mean that it's not my only. I own several hundred houses across the world, all under different names. Now you're probably wondering how I owned so many. Well I'm an eccentric billionaire. Now you're wondering how. Well… I… I stole it. Every penny. In fact you've probably heard of me. I was named the 'Phantom Thief' by the entire world. I've robbed hundreds of banks worldwide. How could a 14 year old rob some of the largest banks in the world you ask? Well, I was 14 at the time. Taking college courses. I couldn't have gotten a job for another couple of years. I got bored. So I got carried away from my normal regime of pick pocketing. But even after my global conquest, I never wasted the money. Except on cars… that's my one weakness, I absolutely love cars. So can you imagine how disappointed I was when I learned I had to be 16 to get a license? I mean I still drove and all, but what kind of shit was that. Some of you may be wondering what luxurious cars I bought with my billions of dollars. Well my first car was this 2010 Chevrolet Spark I found abandoned under an underpass. I admit… it was love at first site. I love this car. Sure I HEAVILY modified it but still. It's a fast little bugger now. Goes from 0-60 in 3.6 seconds and has a top speed of 205. Not bad for a Spark right? And plus it has ridiculous spoilers on it. Like the kind that make you wonder why spoilers even exist if they look so stupid. I have the first place prize for that. I still manage to ignore all the weird looks I get from pedestrians. Sorry about the car talk, where were we? That's right, how I stole billions of dollars. This is where it gets weird. You can choose to believe me or not but it's the truth. I… I have a special power, you could say. It's a little hard to describe but this is the best I got. I have the ability to create a small rip in the time-space continuum next to me. I can then travel in that direction at any distance… up to ten feet. So, really it's like a very weak form of teleportation. Except where teleportation requires you to have been to the place that you're teleporting to… I don't. That's why I've successfully robbed banks world-wide and never get caught. I study the bank's blueprints, find where the vault is, phase in, steal money, and phase out. It's that easy. But enough of this, shall we get to the real story? Good. Let's go back to a few days before I met… him. I was in Madrid, planning to steal from the Banco Popular Español, the third largest commercial bank in Spain. Oh but look at the time… sorry, guess we'll have to wait till next time._

**Well then… there it is. The prologue. Oh the song at the top isn't a recommendation; it's simply me being too lazy to create chapter titles. But I'm not so lazy to just leave it as 'chap. 1, chap.2' and so on. Well please review about what you think. Please stay tuned till next time!**

**Djsoresupon3 signing out!**


	2. Dashboard

Chapter 2: Dashboard by Modest Mouse

**I'm back! Not that anyone missed me… for a day. But updating back to back? This will happen… never again. So consider it a treat for those few that read this story. Note because I forgot to, I don't own Fable 1, 2, or 3 nor the song Ghostwriter. I also don't own the song Dashboard. I'm just sayin' because you never know. Sue me. See what I did there? I find myself funny sadly enough. Onto the real story! No more prologue bullshit.**

_ Oh good, you're back. I knew you'd come back… they always do. So I guess I'll begin the tale shouldn't I? Be prepared… the world you know, will change forever…_

('X' amount of years ago)

I double checked the schematics I had drawn up on a piece of paper. I was just a few feet from the field of vision of the first security cameras. They knew I was coming. I always enjoyed a challenge by leaking my next target. In preparation they had tripled their security. Of course, it was also leaked on the news, so I could easily prepare. Of course I had to change my original plan slightly in order to find the best window to do it. It was 11:07 p.m. so I had a minute left. I was currently in Madrid, Spain. I was just shy of 100 meters away from the Banco Popular Español, the third largest commercial bank in all of Spain. I check for the fourth time in the last hour to make sure I had my mask on. I shouldn't call it a mask; it was just your stereotypical burglar's ski mask. My robbing outfit consisted of a pair of black tennis with their logos scratched off. Dark blue jeans and a plain white shirt covered by a plain black hooded sweatshirt. I even wore black leather driving gloves. My head was adorned with sunglasses to cover my eyes even in the dead of night, the traditional ski mask to cover my head, and my hoodie was up just for extra caution. They still don't know a thing about me besides my height, my robbing attire, and they think they know my getaway car. The thing is I always drove with the lights off and it was painted black. I have great vision at night, which is really the only reason I can pull all of this off. I also had a paint shop in most of my houses to change the color of my 'Sparky' at any time I wanted. I check my watch, did I forget to mention that. It was a simple digital watch that I only wore during bank heists. It was 11:08, time to rob a bank. I took one giant deep breath as I readied myself.

"One… two… three!" I whisper to myself as I launch myself forward onto the street. I pound down the street in a full blown wind sprint.

_One thing you should know about me is my physical boosts I get from being a Hero. I stood at 5' 11" and weighed around 140 lbs. Back then I could bench press over 250 lbs. I could run at a top speed of 21 mph… which is fast if you didn't know. I could also run back to back 5:00 miles easily. My bone structure is heavily reinforced to the point where I can jump from a 4 story window down onto pavement and walk it off shortly afterwards. But back to the story._

I ran down the street approaching the east side of the building. I quickly spotted a guard 8 ft from where he's supposed to have been… the bastard. But it's alright; I planned such anomalies in my plan. My original plan would've allowed me to slip by undetected but now I'm going to have to improvise. I'm either going to have to knock him out now or kill him. I rush past his post as I hear him turn in shock of something actually happening.

"H-Hey you! Stop!" He shouts after me. I smile. 'I don't know, you didn't ask politely so I think I'm going to decline.' As I laughed inwardly a sound was brought to my attention. The sound of him drawing of a handgun. 'Shit.' I think as I look back to see him fumbling to load the small handgun. I look back forwards to towards the eastern wall of the building. I wasn't going to make it. I'll have to improvise after all. Just as I was considering what I should do, a bullet whizzes past my head, making me take action immediately. I reach inside my sweatshirt pocket and pull out a throwing knife. That's right; I knew how to throw a knife. I never missed either. On my front foot, I pivot around, carefully adjusting my momentum so I wouldn't fall over in the process. After the 180° spin, I find myself only 12 ft from the guard. He fired another shot and missed by a good foot. Horrible aim… sucks for him that I don't. In milliseconds, I balance the knife and get a good feeling of its weight and calculate how to throw the knife. I throw the knife, in a straight line with no arc at all. After three revolutions, the knife blade finds its target and sinks to the hilt into the man's skull. I quickly pivoted, using my momentum again to make sure I didn't fall over. I hear the shuffling of boots. The gunshots! How could I be so careless to forget that they would attract the attention of everybody! I halt my momentum, even skidding a bit and turn around to run to the dead guard's body. I retrieve the knife from his skull as more blood began pouring out. I wipe the blood from the blade onto the dead guard. I sprint back to the wall as fast as I could when I heard the guards all find the dead body. All of them were drawing their handguns. I estimated that there were about eight in all. When I was just a foot from the wall I activated my power. I felt two pieces leave my body; I placed one onto the wall and the other five feet behind it for safety of not phasing into the wall. I was no more than about to collide with the wall when I saw the inside the vault. I jump into the wall and land onto solid tile as I skidded to a stop. I look behind me to see nothing but wall. I pull out several burlap sacks and walk over to the nearest drawer. I pull it open and an alarm begins blaring.

"Well fuck", I say as I begin stuffing as many Euros as I could into one burlap sack and once it was full, I moved to a different drawer and open it to find a dozen gold ingots.

"Jackpot", I say, almost singing. I pick one up and try to estimate its weight. I'd say pretty damn near five pounds. I stuff all of the ingots in the rest of the burlap sacks when the vault door opens. I drop the burlap sacks and pull out two throwing knives. Several guards burst threw the doorway. I launch the two knives simultaneously at the first two guards. The first knife hit the guard in the left pectoral muscle, probably piercing a lung as he dropped to the ground. The second knife found its mark in the man's neck. Blood squirted everywhere as he stumbled onto the ground, drowning in his own blood. Three more guards burst in, unfazed by their dead friends. I rush to meet the first as he tried to shoot me. Using my left hand, I grab the gun and twist it out of his grip before he could pop off a shot. My right elbow swung around and caught him across the face as he fell to the ground. I deftly dodge the incoming knife stab as the second guard attempted to stab me through the chest. I bring the gun under his jaw, hitting his Adam's apple as he began choking, I used my right hand to grab the knife and stab him through the diaphragm. I grab his body and use it as a meat shield as the third guard emptied his clip into the body. I throw the body aside and shoot the guard several times in the chest. I turn to the first guard who was getting up and level the gun with his face. The look on his face screamed fear.

"Por favor… Yo tengo una familia." He told me in Spanish. I smiled a wicked smile.

"No hablo español mi amigo." I say innocently as his eyes go wide before I empty the rest of the clip into his head. I then drop the gun onto his body. "Here's your gun back."

I pull out a compass in my pocket and face north. They expected me to get out the way I came in. Idiots… all of them. I ran towards the most northern part of the wall before jumping through the portals I set up and I was outside into the night. I ran for a good minute as sirens began blaring. I ducked into a familiar alley way. I found my Sparky their. I get in the driver's seat and throw the money back into the back seats. I make sure all my lights are off before peeling out into the street as I drove away from the bank towards one of my various homes in Madrid. I drove for a good 20 minutes before arriving at an average 2,500 square foot house. I pull inside the garage and get out. I walk inside and walk to my bedroom, falling onto the bed.

"Too easy", I say before passing out on the spot.

_Well, there it is. You can see I wasn't the most… morally aligned person on the planet. I'm not proud of the things I've done in the past. But it's behind me now. But if you'll excuse me, something has come up that I have to deal with. I could say it's rather… shocking. Oh aren't I just a treat. But seriously, I must say adieu!_

**Well then… we get to see the dark side of our 'hero' now didn't we? Sorry if you felt the ending was rushed… because it was. Now I do ask if you all would be kind enough to leave a review of what you think of the story so far as well as my writing style. Ta-ta!**

**Djsoresupon3 signing out!**


	3. Rock Your Body

Chapter 3: Rock Your Body by Justin Timberlake

**I'm back bitches! This shit's gonna introduce a new character. Contributions by none other than GoldenEclipse116 himself. I don't know why but I'm feelin pretty black right now. I feel like mugging someone on a street… racism against my own race! Because in today's society I can't be racist against my own race apparently. What am I even rambling on about? Good question, ONTO THE STORY!**

_What? Back a third time… well I am quite surprised you have come this far and not dismissed this as another fable that was written for the amusement of the younger generation… fine, fine, I'll continue with the story…_

I woke up with a start. I looked around me and I remembered where I was. Well I didn't have to get up till my alarm went off so back to sleep! As soon as I closed my eyes, my alarm went off. I sighed dejectedly and reset the alarm. I got up and stretched. I had to get to the docks in the port city of Castellon de la Plana by 11:00 a.m. to meet an old accomplice of mine who transported me back to America. I groggily walked into my garage to saw my little Sparky. I pulled out some plastic wraps to cover the tires and windows of the car. I pulled out a spray can filled with the special mixture of the paint that is applied to cars. This one was dual color paint, in the light it was red, and in the dark it was black. I started spraying the car down and it only took me a short amount of time due to me being a master at this by now. I put the spray can away and take off the plastic wrap and I admired my work before I hopped into the car. I looked in the back seat to check for my booty and I opened the garage when I saw it there. I pulled out of my garage and took down the street, heading towards the highway that led to Valencia. As I drove down the street into the city, I could've sworn I saw a car that seemed familiar but I brushed it off.  
(With … 3rd Person)

A man who appeared to be in between the ages of 18 and 20 was driving down the street in his 1979 Pontiac Firebird Trans-Am. It was black with a golden eagle on the front, he had long light brown hair that ended at his shoulder, his bangs were moved to the side to reveal his left eye, and he wore a red t-shirt, a black hoodie and dark blue jeans. He also wore reading glasses that were over his blue eyes.  
"Yes sir, I've got my lead on him and am headed his way", said the man with the physique of a linebacker.  
"Good work Ralos, call us when you have him apprehended and we'll see to it that you get whatever money you'll need for it", the man now identified as Ralos nodded.  
"Of course sir, I'll give you a full report once it's done", he said as he heard a chuckle.  
"Do us proud Ralos", he said as the man on the other end hung up and he put the phone down and saw the car with yesterday's license plate on it as it passed him making him execute a full one eighty turn as he began speeding after Jordan.

(Jordan 3rd Person)

After hearing the squealing of tires behind him, Jordan looked in his rear view mirror and saw the '79 Trans Am and swore.  
"Not this motherfucker", he says as he grits his teeth and floors the accelerator, weaving in and out of traffic. He was used to this procedure. He knew this car very well. He had yet to see the driver clearly enough to get a face, but he knew what his car was capable of. He utilized his smaller car and better maneuverability over the Trans Am's higher speed and better acceleration.

Ralos saw and swore as he timed the drove ahead and busted through a street as some cars came to a stop while drivers cursed behind him as he began to gain speed on Jordan and pulled Bolt out of the glove compartment making sure the revolver was loaded.

Jordan saw that they were approaching the highway that he needed to take but decided to try a little dangerous maneuver to lose the Trans Am. He pulled on his e-brake as he sent his car sideways onto the off-ramp of the highway instead of the on-ramp and swerved to avoid other drivers.

Ralos saw and smiled as he managed to drift onto the off-ramp swerving past a few cars after him and fired a shot that took out Jordan's tail light making him curse at the poor shot.

"This is a new paintjob!" Jordan shouts even though he was sure that the driver couldn't hear him. When he reached the top of the off-ramp he pulled his e-brake a second time and pulled a 180 to go with the flow of traffic before his tires regained traction as he was off.

Ralos saw and once he reached the top of the off-ramp he once again drifted around a few stopped cars and sped up to him and took aim again but stopped and put it down so he could get close enough for a better shot.

Jordan swore that his tactic barely got him any ground. He swerved between cars to attempt to not give the driver a clear shot at him. He really didn't need to replace the windows... again.

Ralos smiled and went onto the side road and sped up getting closer to Jordan's car as he rolled down the passenger side window to take his shot when he came close enough.

Jordan swore when he the Trans Am advancing. Sparky could burn out the newest Ferraris but this guy was respectable with his high performance tuning skills. He double swore when he passed a cop on the road as his sirens went off and the cop joined the pursuit.

Ralos saw the cop and shook his head taking aim at the tires and blew one out making him swerve and crash into the side railing on the road. His bosses, even if they were government workers did not want any law enforcement involved, mostly to preserve their lives. He then took aim and shot Jordan's car shattering the window as a bullet grazed his shoulder shocking him and making the arm feel numb.

"MY FUCKING WINDOWS!" Jordan shouted, ignoring his now limp arm. This was why he needed a gun. But he couldn't buy one due to not wanting it to be traceable back to him. Jordan was at least trying to drive none too recklessly for the sake of others but now he was pissed. He floored his accelerator as his car shifted into 5th gear as he was starting to reach the 180s.  
Ralos smiled.  
"So that's how you're playin' it huh?" He said as he shifted into fourth gear and kept pace and prepared to shoot his tires out.

Jordan swore at what he was about to do to his tires as he pulled both the e-brake and slammed on his brakes as his car was exceptional at braking and his speed practically dropped from 180 to 120 in a second as he swerved to avoid traffic as the Trans Am overshot him.

Ralos cursed.  
"Damn it!" He yelled as he pulled the e-brake and his brakes and did a one eighty as he stopped and fired off his fourth shot as it bust through Jordan's front windshield and his ear sending his head into an extreme headache as the electricity coursed through it.

Ignoring his pain, he pulled on his mask as he drove straight at the Trans Am and pulled out a throwing knife before rolling down his passenger window.

Ralos saw and smiled as he waited for the knife putting the sheathe to a katana in his hand to block it, unknown to Jordan.

As Jordan was within 30 ft of the Trans Am, he floored the brakes and turned as hard as he could as he instead of meeting the Trans Am, he flew down the exit ramp slightly past the Trans Am. He laughed at his bluff as he reached the end of the exit ramp.

Ralos took a second.  
"... Son of bitch!" He rammed the gas and flew off the edge that lead to the exit ramp and landed a few cars behind Jordan with a pissed expression as he hit the gas.

Jordan smiled as he saw the Trans Am and continued to proceed to the on-ramp as he flew into the highway and sped off. He looked in his rear view mirror as several cops had come up behind him with sirens blaring.

Ralos growled and sighed as he turned on his Bluetooth.  
"This is Agent Phoenix of the C.I.A.; all units stand down and fall back", Ralos commanded through the Bluetooth to the cop cars transmissions.

Jordan noticed that the cops started falling back. Now he was sure that the driver in the Trans Am was some sort of international agent. He just didn't know from where. He checked the time. He was running late.  
"Well as fun as it's been, I need a schedule to keep", he says before completely flooring the accelerator as his car started pulling away from the Trans Am, almost reaching the 190's as it shifted into 6th. He was weaving dangerously between traffic at high speeds, using his car's size to slip into gaps that the Trans Am couldn't.

Ralos growled and fired off one last shot at the last glimpse of Jordan's car and fired off a shot, out of pure luck it shot his back left tire and made it go flat in an instant as it blew up and tumbled off in clumps.

Jordan swore so loud that he gave himself a headache. He wrestled for control as his car was going towards the side. He was now extraordinarily pissed. Each of the tires he has costs 10,000 USD due to them being racing slick tires. As he wrestled for control, he went towards the next exit ramp, careful to not over or under compensate for his missing tire.

Ralos smiled as he got into his car and made way for the pier on an alternate route.

Jordan watched quizzically as he saw the Trans Am go a different route. The small city of Castellon de la Plana was mostly unheard of to those who didn't live by it. He figured the driver must be trying to meet him where he was heading. He didn't know how, but he must know his plans to leave the country from there. The only other person he knew that he had told the plans was Maurice, his transporter, but he would never turn Jordan in. They had a friendship actually so the only other conclusion he knew was that the phone conversation must've been tapped. He pulled out his phone and turned into an alleyway before shutting off his car. He took the sim card out of his phone and crushed it before crushing the phone itself. He then pulled out of the alleyway carefully before heading to his nearest home, which was in the town of Taracón. A city that was at the intersection of four highways.

He saw a cop car come out of nowhere with its sirens blaring as it chased him down.

Jordan sighed, he had traveled less than 200 ft and a cop was already chasing him... but he got an idea. He pulled into an alley way and climbed out of his car with his arms raised.

He saw a bullet whiz past his head at the cop's poor aim.

"My hands are raised dumbass", he says, even though he knows probably didn't understand a word he was saying. Yet he still just had his hands raised still. He looked around to see if there were any cameras in the alley.

The cops stopped and two came out guns raised.  
"You are under arrest", one said in extremely terrible sounding English.

"Oh you do speak English... kind of..." Jordan replies mockingly. He was about to activate his power when he remembered most cop cars had cameras in their dashboards. He decided to let them come to him.  
"Well? Are you going to arrest me or not?" He says, holding his hands out.

The cops shook their heads.  
"Contact the CIA man", one said as the other went back to the car.

Jordan smiled.

"Wrong answer", he says before pulling the throwing knife he had had before in his sleeve and throwing it into the cop who was still watching him and drilling him in the head as he was dead on contact.

The other cop pulled away from the radio and looked over and fired a shot that tore into Jordan's shoulder taking some flesh from the top.

Jordan smiled again. He charged the cop and leapt onto him, tackling him to the ground, twisting the gun out of his grip before springing back onto his feet.

The cop groaned and went to call for more back up as Jordan saw the trans am pull into the alleyway.

Jordan smiled as he tackled the cop into the blood of the dead one before grabbing the knife and stabbing it into the cop's throat before rolling off to meet the driver of the Trans Am.

Ralos stepped out of his car and looked at Jordan as he clipped his revolver shut carrying a sword on his back that seemed to be a katana... but the case looked too large for it to be one.

"So this is the bastard who's wrecked my car more times that I have?" Jordan asks.

Ralos nodded and took aim.  
"Yup, and now it's time to take you in. You're an international criminal, time to be put into a nice thick jail cell", Ralos smiled.  
"You're under arrest kid", he said smiling smugly.

"Am I? What have I done wrong Mr. CIA Man?" Jordan asks, innocently.

He looked at him and shrugged.  
"Well... Armed robbery, murder, and robbing banks in multiple nations, and nice job on first national by the way, really pissed off my boss", he said fixing his glasses.

"Well I suppose an apology won't make any of that disappear will it?" Jordan asks.

Ralos shook his head.  
"Nope", he said and shot one of Jordan's kneecaps making his leg go numb as the bullet went all the way through dissipating with the electricity.

Jordan gritted his teeth.

"Always wondered how you got you're gun to carry electrical properties", he says, smiling as he was ignoring the pain. He reaches over into the car and takes out the dash cam before destroying it. "Whoops. I am such a klutz."

Ralos shrugged and pointed it at him.  
"I don't care; I've followed you long enough to get an idea of who you are. To be honest I've just been waiting to get you to slip up, which you've done a lot of. Since you're not wearing gloves I can run a fingerprint analysis on this shit and find out who you are... though I don't think I'll tell my boss. Less of a challenge that way", he said shrugging.  
Jordan smiled as he pocketed the destroyed dash cam and pulls out the bloody knife.

"You mean this shit?" He says, displaying the knife.

Ralos shrugged.  
"And the remains of your tire on that highway, if you take any care of your car and customize them with all the stuff that's on them", he stated.

"And how are you going to trace it back to anything if it's destroyed. I even made sure to scratch the serial number and the company's name off of these tires. So you got nothing on me yet", Jordan says.

Ralos smiled.  
"Shall I refer to fingerprints again? Or are you not as bright as you seem. 'Cause to me you seem like some child who just decided to go try and be a master thief", he said smugly tilting his head as he put a bullet into Jordan's shoulder.

"Have you tried changing a tire without gloves? I always use gloves. But you sir, seem to be missing the most important thing that you could use... such an 'ace detective' like yourself", he says, sarcastically, still ignoring the pain that his nerves were sending to his brain.

Ralos rolled his eyes.  
"Actually I'm not a very good detective, I can just piece shit together with a few skills in his back pocket", he said disinterested.

"Well you completely missed the blood that is on the ground now currently from the four times that I've been shot today", he replies smiling still.

He blinked and shrugged.  
"I knew that, but to be honest I'd rather not, because if you're offering it then there's something wrong with it somehow", he stated.

Jordan just stared at him. "I've been sitting here this entire time... what could I have done to my own blood? I'm a 14 year old, not a freakin master of genealogy."

He shrugged.  
"Well alright then works for me", he said as he took aim at his car and took three shots blowing out the headlights and a front tire before he bean reloading.  
"Just to make sure you don't get too far with out being noticed, that is if you can escape", he stated.

"Thousands have tried to stop me... what makes you think that you can?" He asks now his anger showing that the man just damaged his car.

Ralos smiled.  
"I'm fighting for more than just justice", he stated closing the gun again reloaded with six shots.

"Let me guess. You're doing this for money... for a sick relative or a relative in need... no?" Jordan asks.

Ralos smiled.  
"Why do I need to tell you?" He said simply smiling.  
"You're just a convict", he said and took aim at Jordan's stomach.

"You know I've let you shoot me thrice today... you think I'll let you do it a fourth?" Jordan asks.

Ralos shrugged.  
"Only one way to find out", he said and shot at Jordan's stomach.

Ralos found Jordan's elbow in his face as Jordan had 'jumped' to him, avoiding the bullet. Jordan followed by delivering a kick to Ralos's stomach.

Ralos coughed and punched him in the face making Jordan fall flat on his ass from the sheer strength.  
"Nice tricks kid", he said as he cuffed one of Jordan's hands and was about to spin him around to cuff the other.

Jordan grabbed the cuff and pulled Ralos into him and head butting him straight in his face. If his nose wasn't broken... now it was. Jordan got up and ripped the cuff off of his wrist.

"You haven't seen anything", he says, dusting himself off.

Ralos growled and snapped his nose into place.  
"Well that hurt", he said getting up and picked Jordan up off the ground to face level due to his 6'7" height and head butted him as Jordan felt his nose break.  
"But that's how you do a head butt", he said cracking his neck.

"I'm sorry. Was I supposed to feel something?" Jordan says, taking his knife and stabbing it through Ralos's wrists. Making him let go as he rolled backwards to distance them a bit.

Ralos hissed in pain and glared at Jordan and took quick aim shooting Jordan in both his kneecaps and paralyzing him, causing him to topple over.

Jordan gets up and leans against his car.

"You know... I like you. I don't think I'm going to kill you", he says, pulling out two throwing knives.

Ralos looked at him.  
"Okay then?" He said confused with a hand on his blade ready to block the knives.

Jordan just smiles as he disappears. Ralos than felt both knives stab into the back of his knees. Then Jordan was in front of him and stabbed two more knives into Ralos's elbows. Followed by another pair of knives in his hips, shoulders, wrists and feet. He was lying on the ground, rendered completely immobile. Jordan stood above him, with one more knife. He placed the knife on his chest.

"A little present from me to you", he says, tired. He walks over to the Trans Am and grabs the radio in it. "This is the Phantom Thief. I have one of your agents down and out. You don't have much time before he bleeds out but if you hurry, you can save him", he says, activating it and then destroying the radio. He walks back over to Ralos. "I never did catch your name."

He looked at him bemused.  
"Ralos", e said as he pointed his gun at himself.

Jordan rolls his eyes before kicking the gun out of his hand.

"Don't be a drama queen", he says. He walks over to his car and opens the trunk. He pulls out a wad of Euros. He walks back over to Ralos and stuffs the Euros into Ralos's pocket.

"Consider this a gift from me to your relative. Well essentially you can do whatever you want with it but I would help your relative. Oh and by the way, about the finger prints", Jordan says, examining his hand. "I burned mine off so you won't find any and neither will your friends up in the C.I.A. so they don't have to know where you got those Euros from. But I am going to have to clean up this blood... which is somewhat on you." He says grabbing two bottles of bleach from his trunk.

Ralos looked at him.  
"Hydrogen peroxide is actually better for removing blood from anything", he advised.

"Well I don't got any damn hydrogen peroxide", Jordan replies, pouring bleach over the blood on the street before walking up to Ralos. "Sorry about destroying your clothes."

He shrugged.  
"Meh, I've got nine different outfits almost exactly like it", he stated.

"Good", he says before dumping the bleach all over Ralos and after he was done, he just left the bottles on the ground. "Now I know you're a busy man, I'm a busy man but I know you know that I need to be somewhere. Oh and if you ever even hurt my transporter... I'll make sure that you'll be in more pain than him or me."

Ralos looked at him.  
"You're my target, I kinda tend to try and keep others out of harms way when it's one target", he stated.

"I'm just warning you. If you or anyone from the C.I.A. comes for my transporter... I'm going to take all of you down", he replies before smashing his heel onto Ralos's head, knocking him out temporarily.

(Jordan 1st Person)

I walked back to my car and climbed in. I started the engine and drove out of the other end of the alley. I drove all the way from the town of Arganda del Ray to the town of Tarancón. I had stayed off of the highways for obvious reasons. Once I arrived at my home in Tarancón, I bandaged myself up and restored my Sparky to its original state. I even changed the paint color. Though all that was different was it was green in the light and black in the dark. From there I travelled all the way to Valencia and then made my way up to Castellón de la Plana. I drove to the docks and found Maurice's ship. I pulled into it and parked my car into it. I got out and greeted Maurice, who was looking none too pleased.

"You're late", he says, his tone deathly. I sagged a bit.

"I'm sorry, I-" I was cut off by Maurice laughing.

"I'm kidding, though what happened to you? You looked banged up a bit", he says, gesturing to my bandages. I got this odd sense to turn around as Maurice brought us out of the pier. I turn around and see Ralos, looking out from his Trans Am.

"I just had a friendly encounter", I reply. Maurice chuckles.

"I can tell", he says as Ralos became smaller and smaller.

(Ralos 3rd person 15 minutes after being comatose)

Ralos groaned as he got up and looked around.  
"Clever little bastard", he said as he went over and got out his phone.  
"Sir, I'm sorry to report that I was subdued by my target, enough time has passed that his boat will be leaving the harbor soon", he said as he checked his healed wounds.  
"I see... Check the harbor agent Phoenix, if he has left then book it to the U.S., we'll see you at home", the man said and clicked off the phone again hanging up as Ralos sighed and went to his car and got in making sure he had his gun and the knives, after all, their had to be some residue left, with a little luck and gathering maybe he could get enough DNA to figure out who he is. He started his car and pulled out of the alleyway…

(At the harbor, 3 hours later)

Ralos looked at the boat that was leaving and saw Jordan: they stared each other down for a moment before Ralos went back to his car and got in starting it.  
"Whelp, no place like home", he said as he got out of the harbor and began making his way to the border.

(Jordan 1st person)

I turned back to Maurice and the open sea. One thing that was stuck on my mind of what Ralos said. He had said, 'You're just a convict.'

Am I just a convict? No… I was born with this special power for a reason… I just want to know why…

_Well that seems to be a fitting place to stop for now. But if you have the will to carry on longer… you'll see how dangerous our world is…_

**Well how about that? Longest chapter so far in the story. Please don't forget to review and please ask GoldenEclipse116 for permission to use Ralos as he is his character and not mine. Also just 'because I feel like it… PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME! PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME!**

**Djsoresupon3 signing out!**


	4. Ghosts

Chapter 4: Ghosts by The Presets

**Hey guys! Welcome back to another chapter of Being the 'Hero'! This is as always, djsoresupon3 and I'd like to say that since I am on summer vacation, this story is going to get updated much more often. And who knows… this story might actually become popular… probably not but I don't care! On to the story!**

_Oh good, you made it back safely. Don't worry I understand that it's getting harder to get here everyday. People wondering where you're going, what you're doing, whether or not you're stealing the neighborhood's pets and sacrificing them in a blood ritual but you're not because you're also really worried about the number of disappearing pets and you won't even let your dog go outside anymore without being supervised… no? Never mind. Well it's good that you all are getting here… the FBI have been trying to trail me but this old bones still has some tricks up his sleeve. Now then, I don't really feel like talking about the trip to America because it bores me… so I'll tell you about when we arrived in America._

**(Jordan 1****st**** Person)**

I sigh when the skyline of New York came into view. The trip had lasted about two weeks… which just gave time for Ralos to set up an ambush. I had changed my get up entirely. I now sported red and black Nikes with blue jeans. I had a belt around my waist with throwing knives tucked in and concealed from sight just in case. I also wore a dark green T-shirt that had white writing that read 'Get a life.' in the center with the green mushroom from Super Mario Bros. that gave the players an extra life. On my head was a hat with the San Antonio Spurs emblem on it… who were the San Antonio Spurs? Askin' the wrong guy. I also wore purple-tinted aviators just for sport. I had even gone as far as changing Sparky from green to blue. I had Maurice to thank for all of this. We had drills that we set up for times like these and such. We arrived at the docks in Long Beach, New York. Once I had gotten Sparky off the boat I wave Maurice good-bye as I sped off of the pier and onto the streets. As I exited the pier though, a thought crossed my mind. I really need a new car… the people who were hunting me down could more or less identify Sparky now. Getting a new car could throw them off of my tail for awhile… now don't get me wrong or anything, I wasn't going to get rid of Sparky or replace him necessarily. I'd get a new car and use it for my heists and other nefarious deeds across the globe. It took me a few hours to wind myself through New York to get to I-90 and prepared myself for the cross-country journey ahead of me. The trip lasted several days. I had driven non-stop… the main reason why was that I'm pretty sure I can't get into a hotel by myself. I used the magical powers of coffee, 5 hour energy, monster, and cold water to powerhouse through the nights and days. I was relieved when I finally arrived in my hometown of Seattle, Washington. I wove myself through the city until I came up to my small apartment of which I called home. After parking on the street and grabbing my burlap sacks, I check my mail… more bills… yay. I walk up to the doorstep of my apartment and insert my key into the lock and unlock it. I open the door before taking my key out and placing it back in my pocket. Using my foot, I close the door behind me as I walked into the living room. I place my burlap sacks into a closet that had similar bags all full of money from various places. Of course, I didn't store all of the money here because that'd be down right stupid. Most of it was scattered all across the world just in case if someone found one of my safe houses, they'd only find a small portion of what I've stolen. I open to my fridge to see what food I had. The only interesting thing I found was a gallon of milk. I grab it and check out the expiration date on it. Two days past… I popped the cap off with expert skill and smell it. It smelled fine to me. I drink straight from the jug, not even bothering with grabbing a glass. It tasted fine… slightly off, but still drinkable. After several gulps of milk I put it back in the fridge and screw the cap back on after trying to find it. I open the freezer door and select a frozen dinner at random.

"French bread Italian pizzas? Let's fucking do it", I say, taking it out of the box and poking several holes in it with a throwing knife. Conventional? No… effective? Yes. I place it in the microwave and set the timer for the recommended time and start it. After several seconds of watching it spin around I walk off towards my window to stare outside. It was starting to rain… of course it was. I was about to go back to check on the microwave when something caught my eye. I cup my hands around my eyes to get a better look… and my jaw almost dropped. I saw a car out in the distance… not just any car either… it was a 1969 Chevrolet C2 Stingray 427… it was painted a classic grey. It was sitting there… in the rain. At that moment I decided that that car would be mine. I grab a sweatshirt before bolting out of my apartment just as the microwave started going off.

"Sorry French bread Italian pizzas… you're going to have to wait", I say as I sprinted off towards the car. It wasn't very car… just around a half mile away. It only took me a couple minutes to get there and I slowed down as I approached the house were the Stingray was located on its driveway. I walk up to the Stingray and began inspecting it for any kind of recognizable damage on the outside but the car appeared to have been treated fairly well. There were a few dings in the car sadly. I tested my luck and tried to see if the key was in the ignition but obviously it wasn't. I sigh before walking up to garage that the driveway led to. I 'phased' inside the garage and saw a car that was housed inside… hopefully the person was out on a walk or something. I walk up to the door leading into the house from the garage. I 'phased' through it just in case if there was one of those home alarms that go off when a door to the house opens up. I was in what appeared to be the mud room and I peak around the corner that led to the hallway. The hallway led to the living room where there was a 60 in. plasma widescreen T.V. mounted on the wall and the couch was facing towards it and away from the wall. The T.V. was currently on and I swore mentally when I realized what was on… it was Dancing with the Stars. I resisted all urges to facepalm for fear of getting discovered. The hallway also led into the kitchen where there was a key rack… with the keys to a Mercedes and a Chevy. Score! I tiptoe over to the kitchen before noticing a very big setback. Lying on the ground next to the counter was a dog. Not just any dog either. A Doberman, and from the looks of it, it looked built to take someone's head off. The only thankful part was that it was currently asleep. One wrong move however and I'd be fucked. I carefully, even more so than before, tiptoe to the counter before carefully sliding onto the counter to reach the key. After grabbing the Chevy key, I slid my body back down and barely touch the surface before getting off of the counter. I tiptoe back over to the mud room and 'phase' into the garage before 'phasing' back outside. I excitedly walk up to the Stingray and insert the key into the driver's door so I could climb in. I hop in and just sit at the wheel and admire the interior of the car. I tenderly stroke the leather of the wheel (that's normal right?) before inserting the key into the ignition. I didn't start the car however because this car was over 40 years old and I couldn't rely 100% that it'd start up immediately. I did know a little trick though that usually works but it wasn't guaranteed. I pump the gas peddle several times before turning the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life as I smiled but after taking a second to listen to it… it sounded off. I wasn't sure what it was though but my friend Pablo could probably figure it out. Oh right, you guys don't know who Pablo is… he's my mechanic basically. We'd become friends and he knew about my thievery. He really just works on the car while I'm off robbing a bank and helped me install the parts with Sparky. I also helped to make sure his job didn't go under by paying double what the asked amount was. It helped feed his family and keep his job going so we were even. A dog bark brought me out of me thoughts as I listened to the engine. I peel out of the driveway and floor the gas, blasting down the street before laughing. I enter the city and use nothing but my memory to navigate through the streets of Seattle. After several boring minutes, I pull into the parking lot of a Grease Monkey and kill the engine. I hop out of the car and walk into the shop. The man at the desk smiled when he saw me. It wasn't Pablo but I was still pretty well-known around the shop because of my craziness when it came to cars.

"I'll tell him you're here", the man at the front desk says, walking off towards the door that led to the garages.

"Thanks Jake", I reply as the man disappeared behind the door. After waiting for almost a mere 10 seconds a middle-aged Latino man walked through the door and smiled when he saw me. He held out his hands in a hug gesture and beckoned me forward. I roll my eyes before walking up to him and giving him a bro-hug. We slapped each other's backs before handshaking firmly.

"Jordan! What do I owe the pleasure of being here? You haven't been here at all lately and I was beginning to think that you had forgotten about us", he says with a light Hispanic accent. One thing he'd also taught me was most of my Spanish.

"Sorry, I've been… busy", I reply, looking at a couple other customers waiting in the room. He takes notices of the others as well.

"So I've seen", he replies, gesturing over to one of the customers secretively. I turn around and glance at the customer. She was reading the newspaper and I could see on the cover that the headline read 'Phantom Thief Strikes Again in Madrid!' I look back to Pablo and shrug. He smiles at me before shaking his head. "So what can I do for you today?"

"I've got a new car that I need you to work on", I reply holding out the keys to the Stingray.

"A new one? You're abandoning Sparky?" Pablo asks, shock evident in his voice. I shake me head quickly.

"After all the hard work we put into it? Hell no. I'm just getting a new car that… certain people won't recognize so easily", I reply as Pablo nods.

"Alright well bring her to the back… garage 2 is open so pull in there while I grab my kit", he says, going into a door marked 'Pablo Francesco' (part of his family was Italian). I smile and walk back out to the Stingray and get in. I pump the gas several times before turning the key in the ignition and sure enough the engine sputtered to life… still sounded off to me though. I casually drive the Stingray to the back of the shop where there were three garages open. In the first garage was what I'm guessing a 199…2? Toyota Camry that a mechanic was inspecting… it appeared to be Jake. The third garage had a Ford F-150 that was lifted almost seven feet in the air. Several different mechanics seemed to be working on either what I assumed was the suspension or the axle of the truck. I pull into the empty garage in the middle and park the car before killing the engine. After I had done so, a couple of the free mechanics came over to check the new car as well as say hi. I was chatting with several of the mechanics when a voice tore through our conversation and gained our attention.

"A 1969 Chevrolet C2 Corvette Stingray 427… where in the god damned world did you find this?" Pablo asks, staring straight at the car.

"Oh, you know… found it… abandoned… key in the ignition", I reply smiling. Pablo shifts his attention from the car to me and stared at me as if he was staring into my soul.

"Bullshit", he simply states, causing a few of the mechanics to laugh. I shrug my shoulders in response, still grinning. He rolls his eyes at me before walking up to the car. He began inspection the exterior before opening the door and going inside the car to look at the interior. He hops out of the car and writes something down on a clipboard that I had failed to notice. Once he was done writing, he turns to me, grinning.

"Whoever owned this car before, took really good care of it. Should only take me two to three days to return this to pristine condition. Get in and let me hear this beauty", Pablo says, walking to the front of the car, hands grasped behind him. I did what he told me and got in the car. Before methodically pumping the brakes several times I turn the car on. Almost as soon as the car started Pablo began frowning and tilted his head sideways. I rev the engine and he visibly flinches. He shakes his head and makes a slashing motion at his neck, gesturing for me to kill the engine. I follow his command and kill the engine and press the button to open the hood before getting out. Pablo fully lifts the hood up as he began inspecting the engine.

"There is definitely something wrong about the engine…" He says, before frowning and pulling out a small bone from the engine. He stares at the bone before staring at me.

"That is not mine! I swear to God it's not human", I reply holding my hands up. Pablo shakes his head and throws the bone behind him, landing perfectly in a garbage bin. I stare before golf clapping. Pablo does a little mock bow.

"Took me half a year to get that down… but onto the car… it's a piece of shit. The past owner took good care of its looks but completely shunned the engine. It looks like it hasn't been checked in decades! It'll take me at least a week and a half to get this running like new", he says, still inspecting the engine.

"Actually I had other ideas", I say, taking out a small piece of paper and handing it to Pablo. "I want everything on that list."

Pablo reads over the list and then stares at me with a dumbfounded look before staring at the paper. After reading over the paper once again, he stares at the car. He shakes his head before stuffing the paper in his pocket.

"You really are one crazy bastard", he states, smiling though. I shrug my shoulders in response.

"What can I say? I try", I say, smiling as well. Pablo just rolled his eyes and laughed it off.

"Well it'll take me… I'd say two to three weeks to get everything on this list and to get it installed. Is that fine with you?" He asks, writing down more stuff on his clipboard.

"Of course. You have my number so call me when it's almost done", I reply, beginning to walk out. "Oh and uh… paint it a different color and get rid of the license plate. I need to go home though to get some rest.

"What color?" Pablo asks. I stare at the car before answering him.

"Dark red", I reply as he nods in agreement.

"See you around Jordan", Pablo says, waving good-bye. The rest of the mechanics waved as well. I gave them a quick wave before wishing them good luck before heading out. It had started raining in buckets while we had been inside. I throw my hood up even though it didn't really help much in the long run. I calculated the distance and it was about a two mile walk from here to my house… all in the freakin' rain… fuck my life. I sigh before heading out, now practically soaked even though I was only in the rain for a short period of time. I didn't mind walking through the city that much. I began noticing however that every time I stepped in a puddle, several seconds later, someone else would. I dared not to look behind me but this had been occurring for the past half of a mile. I decided to finally test if someone was following me. I turn into the first alley way I could find. I walk into one that had a dead end. I decided to walk all the way to the brick wall before turning around. Sure enough, there was a hooded man blocking my path.

"How long have you been following me?" I ask the hooded man, but he pulls out a gun and advances towards me. Once he was about almost to my arm-span he stopped and leveled the gun at me.

"Give me all the money you have", he says, voice betraying him as it cracked near the end. I shake my head in disappointment.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" I ask, still shaking my head.

"I need the money okay! Just give your money to me and no one's getting hurt", he says, voice cracking again.

"You really don't want to go down this road. Trust me… it gets boring after awhile. Just turn back and we both can get along with our lives normally", I say, gesturing for him to turn around.

"I'm going to count to three! If I don't have any money in my hands I'm… I'm going to shoot you. One!" He shouts, pointing the gun specifically at my head.

"You don't want to do this", I say, putting my hands half-up.

"Two!" He shouts, his hand holding the gun began trembling. I shake my head.

"I don't want to hurt you. I'm not really in the mood for this", I say before sighing.

"Three!" He shouts but no shot was fired. His body however, slowly slumps to the ground, a surprised expression plastered on his face. I had 'jumped' behind him when he was saying three and killed him before he could fire a shot. I didn't really need the noise to attract more attention. I bend down and remove the knife from his head. I wipe the blood off the blade on his clothes before sticking it back in my waistline and use my shirt to cover it back up. I frown at the dead body.

"I tried to warn you… but you didn't listen… no one ever listens", I say, grabbing his wallet and pocketing it.

"Maybe it's because you're a kid", an unknown voice says behind me. My eyes widen as I grab the knife and turn, preparing to either stab or throw. I was surprised when my hand was caught in a strong grip. I was surprised again when I found an elbow in my face. As I recoiled from the blow, the man let go of my hand, letting me fall back. I quickly recover and get up, feeling my nose. It was definitely broken again as it still hadn't fully healed from my fight with Ralos. I snap my nose back into place and blink from the pain. I looked at the man who had done this to me. It was a well-built man… probably in his 30s. He had short black hair, styled like a buzz cut but slightly longer. He was wearing a tank top and jeans even though it was down pouring. Through his shirt I could see muscles. He was nowhere near Ralos's build (I mean seriously, that guy looks like he should be a freakin' linebacker) yet he threw a punch just as hard. The most intriguing thing about him however was his eyes, they were the most intense and probing eyes I had ever seen. It was as if he had already dissected my strengths and weaknesses and knew 50 ways to kill me at this moment.

"Who are you?" I ask. I didn't expect an answer… just more brawling, but he managed to surprise me.

"Someone who could help you understand everything Jordan", he replies. His voice completely opposed his image as it was calm and smooth… almost fathering.

"How do you know my name?" I ask, pointing the knife which I still held in his direction. He didn't even flinch, in fact, he smiled.

"I've been watching you for quite some time Jordan. I know more about you than you know about yourself", the man replies. I sneer at him.

"Trust me… you don't know anything about me", I say. I 'jump' in front of him and was b out to drive the knife into his throat when a foot intercepted me. He extended his leg, transferring all of the kinetic energy in his leg into my chest as I was sent flying back. I land on my back but I used my momentum to swing myself back upright.

"You… you know about my power?" I ask, slightly out of breath from the kick.

"I told you Jordan… I know more about you than you do", he replies. I grip my knife tighter.

"What does that mean?!" I yell at him. He smiles in reply before grabbing his wallet. He fished around in it before grabbing a card.

"If you ever want to know the mysteries behind your powers. Call me or find me… I can tell you anything you need to know", he says, dropping the card on the ground before walking off.

"Wait! Who are you?" I ask, running after him once he had turned out of the alley. However, one I turned the corner; I found nothing but empty street in front of me. I turned around and looked in the other direction but still found nothing.

"That slippery motherfucker", I say before turning back to the alley. I walk over to where the card was and picked it up. It was laminated so I didn't have to worry about it getting wet. It read 'Academia Inc.' with one of the cheesiest and overused slogans I've ever heard. 'Paving the road to tomorrow, today.' It also listed the location of the building where he worked I guess. It was about 10 miles from here in a different part of Seattle, almost on the outskirts. I put the card in my pocket and begin the long walk home in the rain, leaving the dead body there.

(15 minutes later)

I walked into my apartment that was still in the same shape as when I had left for the Stingray. I take my shoes off before a beeping sound brings me out of my thoughts. I look towards the direction of the beeping and remember I hadn't opened the microwave when I left. I open the microwave and pull out the French bread Italian pizzas. They had no trace of warmth on them anymore, but I could deal with some cold pizzas. I set the pizzas down on the table in front of my T.V. in the living room. However, I also decided to change. I walk into my bedroom and select random articles of clothes. After taking my shirt off (which was like 20 lbs), I noticed that there was a giant bruise on my chest where I had been kicked. I press my hand against it and wince when I felt the pain shoot across my body. After changing, I still wore blue jeans but I was also wearing a bright green shirt with a picture of Yoda from the original trilogy with a caption under it that read 'Trust me, a Jedi, I am.' I plop down on the couch in the living room and turn on the T.V. I sigh before realizing something.

"I haven't slept in the past four days", I say before losing all consciousness and everything went black.

_Sorry but that's all the time I have for today. But for the next session I would remember that man that I met in the alley way… the one that's not dead that is. He is rather very important to the rest of the story. Now I have to go and get back home before the neighbors think I'm killing a dog or something. Have a nice day and remember 'Whoever would overthrow the liberty of a nation must begin by subduing the freeness of speech.' Ben Franklin said that I believe. But now I must really go, ta-ta._

**Well wasn't that an interesting little chapter? Anyone like Stingrays? 'Cause if ya don't than something's wrong with you. They're such nice cars. And now Chevy is remaking one. Though it's the C3 not the C2… the C2 is much better. And what about that mysterious man? What does he know about Jordan's powers? Does he have good intentions or bad intentions? Why is this starting to sound like Dragon Ball? Find out next time on… whatever this story was called… oh shit I forgot.**


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